Eleven o'clock on a motorway it wasn't very nice still raining Spied a man he looks away I never liked him much no conversation Skills went on a quiz show once and nearly won encyclopaedic Sunday drive to birthday lunch had an argument they're car sick Oh shiver on to your own front door So much to get back for
Clumsy clumsy aren't we dressed in paper And holding hands with gloves on Eyes in comedy shades
We're clumsy aren't we wrapped in paper and fears Can't pay attention when you've got glue ears
Seven o'clock on a motorway she isn't going out she's only Visiting dad who was locked away Now he just recites lines from movies Kid in the back is eating flies Wish his mother didn't dress him funny She still sighs still dots her eyes With little hearts she worries
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